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 Moments before I got The Call.
I’ve spent a lot of time on other authors’ websites. I’ve read their blogs and their bios and I’ve noticed that many have one thing in common—they always knew they wanted to be a writer.
I did not.
Growing up, writing came easily to me. I scored highly on five-paragraph
essays in high school, I became an editor for our high school newspaper,
and when I got to college I purposely chose courses based entirely
on essay exams. I became a journalism major thinking it was a practical
way to apply my skills to an appealing career.
Then an interesting thing happened—I didn’t like being a reporter.
At first I thought that I simply didn’t like what I was writing
about (hotels and real estate), then I began to think that writing
was something I was “good at” and not something that I was supposed
to pursue.
I must thank my parents for always insisting I find a job that I love. My father, a reluctant accountant, encouraged me to follow my passion and let the money follow. I didn’t love being a reporter. In fact, I felt certain that there was “something” I was supposed to be doing with my life only I had yet to figure it out.
But journalism was all I knew. I had five unpaid internships while
at BU, I graduated from the College of Communication, and I had
an entire resume filled with reporting experience. I needed a push
to leave the industry. And I got one.
 The last photo I took that shows the Towers- approximately one week before they collapsed.
For the first time, I took a hard look at my life and realized that I wanted to do something more “important.” So I quit my job, moved back to Philadelphia with my now husband, Jordan, and joined a nonprofit.
I liked my job, I liked the organization, I liked my coworkers, and my work felt valued. I was happy.
Then, while planning my wedding, I began to have silly nuptial-themed
dreams. They were vivid and typical—until one night. I woke up having
dreamt that I was the author of a series of young adult novels based
on my experiences in middle school. I dreamt the concept for more
than three books and it all felt so real.
I immediately told Jordan who looked at me, tilted his head and said, “Don’t you remember that psychic?”
I hadn’t. Until then.  Me in front of the psychic's store.
A few years ago, when we were still living in Manhattan, we took
a vacation across New England. We stopped in Salem, Mass., home
of the witches, right after Halloween. I wanted to see a psychic
(when in Rome, right?). It was the first and only time I’ve ever
been to one. I was skeptical, so I sat down determined to be vague.
I told the psychic that I wanted to know about my career. The first
thing she said was, “You’re a writer.” A little surprised, and still
cautious, I told her I was a reporter who wrote about “business.”
The psychic confidently sat back in her chair and said, “No, no,
I don’t see that. You’re an author. You write books, little books,
like children’s books.”
I had completely forgotten the entire visit until Jordan reminded me. And I became convinced that it was “a sign.” I vowed to write the novels I dreamt of as soon as we returned from our honeymoon.
I finished my first novel in the spring of 2005. Knowing absolutely nothing about the publishing industry, I Googled “how to get your book published.” I learned that I needed to find a literary agent, so I went to the bookstore and bought a book on literary agents. The book included several chapters on how to navigate the process and I followed it step-by-step.
I started submitting my query letter in June 2005. Two weeks later,
I got an agent — Jenoyne Adams, who responded to my e-query within
five minutes and who offered me representation within 24 hours of
receiving the manuscript (she’s awesome). By July 2005, my book
was on submission.
 Me and Jordan
Per my husband’s supportive request, I quit my job at the nonprofit in April 2007 and I now get to call myself an author. I’m doing something that I love. I did not quit when the success was not immediate. I knew I had figured out “what I was supposed to be doing” and I wasn’t going to stop until it happened. I’m so glad I did.
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